Talking With the Dead
by Lunnaei
Summary: Death is a whole new adventure, but you're not supposed to be killed by one of your closest friends. Is it possible to save someone when you're dead!


Author's Note: Heh. I had fun with this, so I hope you enjoy. I'm planing on rewriting it. New enemy and all, this one is just a little to obvious, and......easy. But fun none the less. Hope you like. -grins- Oh......and you shouldn't let me write when I'm tired, this is what you get at 3 am in the morning. -sweatdrop-

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* * *

Talking With the Dead**

The white luminescence of the computer was the only light that filled the room. His fingers flew effortlessly over the keys; typing out his thoughts and comments to the person he didn't know. Internet chatting always calmed his nerves after a stressful day. Besides, starrat4004 always seemed to know what to say to make him feel better.

Rowen glanced over his shoulder when Sage walked into his room. He took little notice of his friend; after all, Sage was the one who had caused him to retreat here in the first place. With a scowl intentionally imprinted on his face Rowen turned back to his typing. Sage didn't take the hint; he just stood there. He could be so annoying sometimes. Sage didn't give up easily, and Rowen knew there would be no ignoring him.

"What do you want?" he snapped at the blonde in the doorway.

Sage just stared at him, his violet eyes blank of any emotion. He hated it when Sage got that look; it always unnerved him. "You can't stand it can you?" Rowen stood, leaving his net conversation forgotten for the moment. "You can't stand that you didn't win that argument on your own; I let you win by walking out. And that just pisses you off doesn't it? Well, damn it Sage, I'm not starting it up again, so you can just leave," his words were stern; full of venom.

Sage didn't say a word. Instead he pushed himself from the wall, and took a slow, menacing step in Rowen's direction. Rowen had to force himself not to step back. Sage stepped slowly closer till his face was only inches from Rowen's. Rowen stared at him, unsure; his friend's cold eyes threatening to send chills down his spine.

He hadn't been expecting this. The pain, the shock; and yet the pain grew more distant with each beat of his punctured heart. Rowen looked down, blinking surprise at the knife imbedded deep into his chest; Sage's hands still gripping the handle. He turned his eyes back on Sage; the look on his friend's face made his stomach turn. The grin reached his crazed eyes, the cool violet orbs staring elatedly at the blade he had just stabbed his friend with.

"Why...?" Rowen choked as he fell back, sliding easily from the bloodied blade. He hit hard, bouncing like rubber off the stained carpet. The heat of his blood was not so warm anymore, and he felt the cold of death close its fingers around him. With one last shuddering sigh, Rowen's eyes closed.

* * *

His eyes fluttered hesitantly open. He stared blankly at the odd sky his thoughts distant and unable to be caught. Finally one landed where his groggy mental hands could grasp hold of it, where am I? He felt weak, this proved by the trembling of his fingers as he tried to make a fist. He lay there, unmoving for a long while before he felt he had the strength to move.

He scanned his surroundings as best he could from where he lay. He gathered that he lay atop a grassy knoll in midday, but...something just wasn't right. The grass, the sky, the clouds, everything, seemed to be sickly colored. The cool grass beneath him was more of a blue-green; dark, like oil or ink had stained it; and the sky was a slight shade of purple still mixed with the blue of clear crystal. The light seemed too dull, and yet everything was bright like noonday. He found himself staring into the sun, the rays causing the clouds to glow with red edges; like one would see at sunset.

Finally he had had enough, and he pushed himself into a sitting position. His head dropped into his hand at the dizzy, headache that flooded his brain.

"Welcome!" a cheery voice chimed.

Rowen looked up and blanched. It wasn't the person, per-say, that had caused such a reaction, but what she was doing. The girl was quite beautiful. Her short, black hair flipped out just above her shoulders; most of the raven colored mass tamed behind her pointed ears. Her eyes were amber, glowing with a soft yellow brown sparkle. Her face seemed young; exceptionally young; like that of a child's, but her body was that of a teenage girl. But her beauty was not what had shocked Rowen, what had done so was the fact that she was floating.

"Welcome!" she chirped again, her tone politely demanding some sort of response.

Rowen wasn't sure how to respond to the floating girl. "Where am I?" he spoke the first words that came to mind. He felt rude for not saying something else, but what could he have said?

"Why! You're in Sherlam!" she beamed at him, doing a flip in the air and ending up with arms outstretched in presentation.

"Sher...lam...?" Rowen repeated uncertainly.

"That's what the spirits call their realm. You're in the Spirit Realm! The afterlife! The Underworld!!" Her excited, giggling words pounded his ears like hammering insults. She had flipped again, and now hovered, cross-legged in midair.

"What?" it was all that came to him.

"You're dead silly!" she teased with a wave of her hand.

"Dead? No, that can't be," Rowen shook his head in denial.

"Well...just look," the girl pointed.

Rowen twisted to look behind him. With a cry he jumped from his spot, scooting across the grass in horror. He was looking as himself, bloodied, and dead, lying on the grass. The image of him was translucent, and obviously not tangible. The grass popped up under the fading form of him as he watched the place he had sat moments before. He glanced over his shoulder again, just to make sure there was not another copy there. "What...?"

"Don't worry," the girl smiled, "flickers always fade, and it just means you're still fresh."

"Fresh?"

"Freshly dead!" she seemed too happy about that fact. "But," she frowned; the look somehow still seeming cheerful, "there's just something not right about this. You shouldn't have died yet, it was too soon."

"You got that right!" Rowen snapped. He was starting to feel a little picked on. Why? Why had Sage done that to him? It wasn't like Sage to take things this far, not far enough to kill. So why?

The girl came close. Eyes squinted she examined him, looking for the slightest flaw. Rowen cringed away from her scrutinizing perusal as she invaded his space. "So," her scouring gaze broke and she grinned at him once again, "what's your name newling?"

"Rowen," he answered simply.

"I'm Rif. Raven if you prefer, but everyone calls me Rif. I'll be your guide around here. Welcome to Sherlam!"

"Now wait a minute," Rowen shook his head. "You said I shouldn't be dead yet, so why am I?"

"Well, that is a good question, Rowen. Why do you think?"

Rowen glared at her sideways. "I was stabbed," he said it a little unsure.

"Well, that's the way you got here, yes; but why did you die?"

"Because Sage went too far," he growled.

"Do you remember why?" Rif came to settle on the ground before him.

"We had been arguing."

"And..." she pressed.

"And what?"

"What were you two fighting about?"

Rowen thought for a moment, trying to remember the argument.

* * *

Sage sat on the couch in the living room of Rowen's little one bedroom apartment. He fiddled idly with a chunk of red metal as the television drained his consciousness. Rowen looked up from his book for a moment to see what the methodic motion was all about.

"What is that Sage?" he asked.

"A piece of Talpa's mask," Sage answered dully.

Rowen frowned, putting his book aside. "Why do you have it?" he asked.

"For a trophy," Sage turned bored eyes on him.

"Don't you think that's a little dangerous?" Rowen couldn't help to feel there was something wrong with it. Talpa, their arch nemesis, was defeated; but he had proved to be persistent in showing up again when the Ronin's least expected it. That little bit of the demon lord's armor could allow him to return from the depths of hell if they weren't careful.

"Rowen, it's a hunk of metal. How's that dangerous?"

"I'm just saying, Sage, it seems a little reckless to hold on to something like that. Talpa's like an infestation of rats; you think they're all dead, and suddenly they show up again. Do you really want to risk him returning just because you have that?"

Sage rolled his eyes, "you're being paranoid. He's dead; he's not coming back again."

"That's what we thought last time. And I have good reason to be paranoid. I don't feel like dying."

Sage glowered at him. "You're afraid aren't you?"

"Yes, a little," Rowen admitted. "I've just got a bad feeling about it."

"You coward. Afraid of a piece of metal. You don't deserve to be called a Ronin Warrior."

Rowen was on his feet in a flash, Sage following suite. "I'm not a coward!" he growled.

Sage only chuckled at him. "It's only a piece of metal."

"At least I've never fallen into any of his traps."

Sage growled as Rowen brought back the memory of his capture by Talpa. He was about to speak when Rowen continued. "I still say you should destroy it Sage; I just don't like the feeling I get from it," Rowen didn't give Sage a chance to reply as he turned and headed for his room, and the escape of chatting......

"Well," Rif stated matter-of-factly, "I think that answers your question."

"What? But how?" Rowen blinked at her.

"The metal, from your enemy's armor; it must still hold some of his power, and is controlling your friend."

The bluntness of Rif's words caught Rowen off guard. "Is there nothing I can do?" he whispered.

"Nope, nothing. Unless of course you were to return to the living, then it'd be as simple as removing the piece from his possession."

Rowen's head dropped in defeat. "Is there in way to return to the living?" he didn't expect a positive answer, but he had to try.

"Only if King Serun says you can," Rif was once again in the air.

"King...Serun?" Rowen questioned.

"The ruler of Sherlam!" Rif squealed excitedly.

Rowen quickly concluded that her constant cheer would quickly grow annoying. "Can you take me to him?"

"Nope."

"Wha--Why not?"

"He's not..."she paused, dramatically searching for the word. "Well, in a way he's not real, but real isn't really a good word to use, because he does exist you just can't see him unless he feels like letting you see him; and then you're very lucky because he hardly ever lets anyone see him in person. But he's listening," she ended with a grin.

"Listening...?" Rowen wasn't sure if he had caught the rest of that.

"Yeah. He's everywhere, so he's always listening. And if he feels like it, and you ask him nicely he might let you live again."

"Okay, um..." Rowen turned his eyes back to the blue-green grass.

"Go on. Say something," Raven urged with a laugh.

Rowen thought of what to say and how to say it. He felt a little odd under Rif's smiling gaze, but he said the words anyways. "Um...King Serun," he glanced at Rif to make sure he's said it right. When she didn't change her expression he assumed he had. "Your majesty, I really need to...go back to the realm of the living. I need to live again," he felt like a fool. "You see, my friend is in danger, and so is the world," Rif nodded her encouragement. "And if you don't send me back, this place will become really crowded," he couldn't believe his own words; the last part had sounded like a threat, and he almost hoped it came across as one; maybe then King what's-his-name would want to send him back. He sounded so stupid, though, and he knew it, but...

Rowen yelped as a tingle spread over his body. He looked at his hands in shock as they started to fade; he could see the grass though his palm. He glanced up at Rif, and her grin was as big as he'd seen it. "Bye Rowen," she waved to him from her cross-legged perch in the air, "I'll show you around Sherlam the next time you die. Make sure you don't come early again!" With that Rif and Sherlam disappeared.

Rowen struggled to wake up. His chest ached, and he found it hard to breath. He forced his eyes to open, and pushed himself deliberately to a sitting position. He was soaked in his own blood, but the wound was no longer there. Sage had been about to leave the room, but he turned back as Rowen shakily stood.

His eyes were blank. He didn't seem angry or irritated that Rowen still lived, but neither could he see the normal Sage anywhere in those hollow eyes. Rowen stepped forward, quickly closing the distance, between him and Sage. Sage raised the knife for another attack, but Rowen wouldn't die again that easily. His fist connected solidly with Sage's jaw, and the blonde released the blade.

Rowen hopped down on his friend, pinning him to the floor as he searched his pockets for the cursed chunk of metal. Finding it Rowen chucked the thing over his shoulder. It crashed though the window, and disappeared as it bounced across the walkway outside. Rowen was ready to give his friend another blow if need be, but Sage's struggle had ended the moment the piece had gone from Rowen's hand.

Sage stared at Rowen, his eyes seeming to focus for the first time that day. "Rowen?" Sage breathed. "What happened to you? What's going on?"

Tears of relief stung Rowen's eyes as he relaxed, and moved aside to allow Sage to sit up. "It's a long story," Rowen said quietly. "And, I've got to tell you about this annoying girl named Rif, who's going to show me around Sherlam..."


End file.
